Epiphany
by Nangi
Summary: This is hard to explain without giving the story away, but I'll try. Trowa reviews himself after meeting a certain blonde-haired boy, and needs to decide when to spill his feelings. (Songfic - 3x4 - R&R)


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Epiphany  
by Nangi

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disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, or the song 'Epiphany' by Staind. I do, however, own this plot and ideas. Don't sue, and enjoy.

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'Your words to me, just a whisper  
Your faces so unclear  
I try to pay attention  
Your words just disappear  
Oh, 'cause it's always raining in my head  
Oh, forget all the things I should have said…'

He had studied the quartet before him, eyes searching for something inside, something that he couldn't see at first glance. He couldn't read them like he could others, and it bothered him in an intriguing sort of way. Frustrated, he looked at them, one by one, ignoring their nervous and pointless chatter. His gaze rested upon a Japanese boy first; this one was also quiet, and he was leaning against the brick wall of a run-down building. He, too, seemed to be observing the group, but the difference was that he was listening to them. No matter how the Japanese tried to stifle it, it was in his eyes, and the silent watcher's gaze saw it, no matter how faint. Next, watch flickered onto a buoyant boy with violet-gray eyes. He was laughing and joking; a mask for something well hidden. The optics drifted over to a blonde-haired boy, reserved but with in the conversation the watcher let slide away. He blushed when he realized the stare. There was another male, Chinese. He seemed angry and irritable, but friendly enough. _He must have lost someone_, the owner of the gaze thought.

Trowa Barton turned to leave, looking back at the Blonde longest of all.

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'…So, I speak to you in riddles, 'cause  
my words get in my way. I smoke the  
whole thing to my head and feel it  
wash away, 'cause I can't take any more  
of this. I wanna come apart,  
or dig myself a little hole inside  
your precious heart.  
Oh, 'cause it's always raining in my head  
Oh, forget all the things I should have said…'

"Hey!"

Trowa turned slowly to see the blonde-haired, aqua-eyed boy running towards him. It had been only a week since Trowa had last seen him, and he had thought of him every minute. His heart was pounding. He didn't trust his voice, so he just stood there, stock-still and silent. The boy was inches away from him now, if Trowa lifted his hand he would touch him. The Blonde was shifting his weight shyly, breathing heavily from the sprint and Trowa could feel it caress his face. The Latino took a silent, sharp breath.

  
"My name is Quatre Winner. Yours?" The boy smiled in welcome. It was then that Trowa knew that he needed to learn all about this other Gundam pilot.

  
"Trowa Barton." His heart thundered in his chest, throat and head, but his voice and expression didn't show it.

  
Quatre was silent for a minute, surveying Trowa as he had been before. It was uncomfortable for Trowa, and he could tell by Quatre's expression that he was deep in mull, debating with himself. At the same time the amber-haired boy thought Quatre was easy to read, he knew that there was something more to the innocent angel. And then the blonde said, embarrassed, "I.. I liked you the moment I saw you, a week ago."

  
Trowa avoided letting the Arabian hear his sharp inhale, and uncontrollable happiness by turning and dashing down the alleyway. Quatre stared after, tears welling in his eyes and mentally scolding himself for telling the secret eating him up inside.

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'…I am nothing more than a little boy inside  
that cries out for attention,  
yet I always try to hide.  
'Cause I've talked to you like children,  
though I don't know how I feel,  
but I know I'll do the right thing  
if the right thing is revealed.  
'Cause it's always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said.'

"Trowa, listen…" Quatre was saying, sitting on the patio of his mansion, facing Trowa, "I know what I said a while back was surprising, and I'm sorry, but I really didn't expect you to run off like that. I just want to know how you feel."

  
Latino remained silent, looking on at Quatre with hollow eyes and expressionless face. Neither of them said anything for moments on end, and the blonde Arabian's features grew more sorrowful with each passing minute. Still, he held on the hope that Trowa would eventually say something to him.

  
"Damn it!" Quatre yelled, fighting tears; he stood and began to pace, clenching his fists. At intervals he lifted his tightened hands to the sides of his head, all the while choking on silent sobs. Trowa eventually stood as well and calmly pulled the frustrated Quatre up against him. Quatre attempted to free himself from the tightening grasp, but gave up and sobbed against his captor's shoulder.

  
"Quatre…" Trowa's voice wavered, exposing more emotion than he ever wanted to show. The Arabian felt solid drops on his head and looked up, expecting rain. Instead, he saw tears slowly gliding down Trowa's cheeks from closed eyes. The Latino took a breath and tried again, looking down at him.

"Quatre, I have so much to tell you…"


End file.
